


One Prize I'd Cheat to Win

by PaperBodies



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Champagne, Con Artistry, Fake Dating, Headaches & Migraines, Luxury yachts, M/M, POV Alternating, So much flirting, Swearing, The Mindflayer - Freeform, Theft, a lot of swearing, fancy tech, steve harrington is RICH rich, the upside down exists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperBodies/pseuds/PaperBodies
Summary: Billy's at this ridiculously fancy party for one reason--to do a job. Unfortunately, nothing goes according to plan.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55
Collections: Mad Wet Rat Boy and Fluffy haired Doofus





	1. This is gonna be one of those things

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much other shit I could be working on, but I really just wanted to write fancy parties and theft and banter, so here we are! I hope this is as much fun to read as it is to write.

“Talk to me, Max. Something feels off. This was too easy.”

“Everything’s fine, asshole. Stop being so paranoid.” Even through the earpiece, Billy could hear her irritated huff. “I told you, I did extensive research on this one. It's easy because we planned it that way.” Billy snagged a glass of champagne as a server with a tray passed him. He sipped it as he studied the dance floor below him. Couples in black tie swayed in circles to the music. The band was set up in a discreet corner, opposite the raised dais at the far end of the room. There was a podium on it. The auction was due to start in an hour, and Billy hadn’t seen his target yet.

“If everything's fine, then where is he?” he asked Max. “This is his party in his massive, ridiculous ballroom." Who the fuck had a house with a ballroom? "He should be schmoozing right now.”

“I don’t know, Billy. Aren’t rich people late all the time? Maybe he’s still getting ready.” Given what his hair had looked like in the photos Billy had studied, he could almost believe it. Still, Billy didn't like it. Something felt off. He opened his mouth to say that again, but two things happened at once. The double doors opposite the raised dais opened and Steve Harrington stepped through them. He was wearing a beautifully tailored dark blue tuxedo, and Billy’s mouth went a little dry. The photos really hadn’t done him justice. At the same time, someone leaned up against the railing right next to where Billy was tucked into the shadows, and he felt the unmistakable press of a gun muzzle against his ribs. He took a sharp breath and let it out slowly. God damn it, he had been right. This had been too easy because it was a fucking trap. 

He reluctantly dragged his gaze away from Steve, who had moved into the room and was greeting his guests with wide smiles and handshakes. Billy knew he wasn’t visible from the dance floor below—he had chosen this spot for that exact reason, obviously—but he could have sworn Harrington shot a quick, amused glance his direction. Billy looked at the person standing next to him, casually holding a gun to his side. She was tall with dyed blonde hair, dressed in a full-length silver gown, and her blue-gray eyes were calm and assessing. His heart sank. She looked depressingly competent. He tried a dazzling smile anyway.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and intimate. She smiled at him, amused.

“Hi,” she replied, but her eyes stayed calm and focused, and the gun at his side stayed steady. “Aw, dingus, I think he’s trying to flirt with me,” she said, and it took Billy a moment to realize she wasn’t talking to him. She listened for a minute and then nodded. She pulled an earpiece from somewhere in the full skirt of her dress and offered it to Billy. At the same time, the pressure of the gun disappeared from his side. She shot him a tight smile. “He wants to talk to you. Be nice and don't try anything shady. Nancy still has you in her sights, and she’s a better shot than I am, believe it or not.” Billy weighed his options, but he was ultimately too curious not to take the earpiece. He slipped it into the ear that didn't already have an earpiece in it, hoping Max was catching this. He didn’t say anything to her, hoping her presence was still a secret. He should have known better.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” said a low voice in his ear. It was warm and he thought he could hear the smile in it; he liked it.

“Pardon?” Billy asked, trying to regain his footing. He had to know what kind of trap they had walked into.

“I mean, I obviously know who you are," said the voice. "I would have followed your work out of professional curiosity, even if it wasn’t impressive, which it is. You and Max and Heather make a great team.” Fuck. They knew about Max _and_ Heather. "That heist in Salzburg last year was exceptionally clever," the voice continued. Billy's eyes strayed back to the dance floor, and this time there was no mistaking it—Steve Harrington glanced up to the shadows where he should not have known that Billy was standing, and he winked. Billy almost laughed; this was ridiculous. Steve was supposed to be the target, but the night clearly wasn't going to go according to plan. Billy should have been angry or frustrated or worried about his team, but what he actually felt was delight. Steve Harrington was even more beautiful in person than he was in photos, and he had outflanked Billy's team, and he was winking at him. This was the most alive Billy had felt in _ages_.

“What I don't know is exactly why you're here," Steve continued. "I have a few guesses, but I'd really prefer not to have to guess." Billy made a noncommittal sound. He knew better than to volunteer information. Steve waited for a beat, and then he just sighed and changed the subject, to Billy's surprise. "Apologies for the gun,” he said, and Billy watched him move around the room, playing the perfect host and discreetly talking to Billy in his earpiece in between shaking hands with his guests. He had nice hands. “I argued against it, but I got overruled. I hope you’re not offended—I really am a fan of your work—it’s just that we worked really hard to set this evening up, and we couldn’t let you interfere.” Steve shot another dazzling smile at an older couple as he snagged a glass of champagne and paused near the band. 

“Interfere?” Billy asked, wanting to keep Steve talking. He already knew that Steve had a team, that he had an objective here tonight, and that he knew more about Billy and Max and Heather than he should. It was invigorating. Steve sighed again.

“I mean, I may not know exactly why you're here, but I don't think it's just to enjoy the party. Even if it is an excellent party. We kind of have our own plans for the evening, so I’m afraid we can’t let you do your thing.”

“Our thing?”

“Are you always this tedious a conversationalist, or is this a special occasion?” Billy snorted a laugh before he could help himself.

“You caught me off guard, Harrington. Not sure what you want me to say.” Billy could definitely hear the smile in Steve’s next words.

"Aw, you know my name. I want you to say that you're very sorry you tried to steal from me at my own goddamn party. Also that you're very sorry for lying straight to my face, because if you didn't at least suspect that things were going a little too well, then you're not as good as I thought you were." Billy laughed aloud this time. 

"I'm afraid I'm not sorry at all," he said, and meant it. "Besides, you're apparently planning to steal from _yourself_ at your own goddamn party, so you can hardly be mad at me for trying it." Steve laughed. 

"Definitely not stealing from myself. Fun guess, though." Billy grinned. This was shaping up to be even more enjoyable than successfully completing the job would have been. 

"You were right--you didn't catch me entirely off guard," Billy admitted. "I knew something was off." He heard Max's offended huff in his ear. Steve actually giggled. It was adorable, although the implication that Steve could hear Max was a little concerning. He tucked away the information that their comms were compromised and wondered absently how they had done it. 

"Please tell Max that her work was very good," Steve said. "She might even be better than Dustin, but we have some...other advantages."

"Hey!" Billy heard a new voice in his earpiece, and Steve laughed again, bright and happy. 

"Sorry, buddy, but it's true. Maybe next time, _you'll_ be the one to notice that someone tried to tamper with our system," Steve said reassuringly. He was making his way toward the raised dais. "Apologies for cutting this short," he said to Billy, "but I have some responsibilities to take care of for a little while. I do hope you'll stay and enjoy the party. Max is welcome to come in and join you and Heather, and please help yourselves to food and drinks--the appetizers are delicious." Steve paused as a tall man with shaggy hair put a hand on his arm and leaned in to say something. Steve held up a hand, indicating that he should wait, and continued. "Robin can get you all set up with a table number, if you'd like to stay for the auction. I hope you will." His voice was sincere, if a little distracted. Steve tapped his ear as he disappeared through a door to one side of the dais, the man next to him leaning in close to talk to him, and Billy's earpiece went dead. The woman next to Billy--Robin, apparently--smiled at him as he looked back over at her. It didn't reach her eyes, which remained cool and assessing.

"So that's it?" he asked. "Just...'enjoy the party'?"

"Yep," she said. "It's a lovely party, and the food is excellent, and I'm happy to assign you and your team to some seats for the auction. There are a couple of caveats, obviously." Her smile went a little predatory as she tapped her ear to silence her own earpiece so she wouldn't be overheard. Interesting. She leaned in closer. "First, stay away from Steve tonight. You can chat all you want over comms, if he initiates it, but do not approach him. If I were you, I'd leave a solid ten to fifteen feet of distance at least, just to be on the safe side." 

"On the safe side," he said. It wasn't a question. 

"Yep. We're well aware that Steve was supposed to be your target. We may not know exactly why, but it wouldn't be the first time someone made an attempt on his life, so you can understand why we're nervous."

"We don't take those kinds of jobs," Billy said, low and intent and extremely serious. Robin raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Good for you, and I'm sure you'll forgive us if we don't just take your word for it," Robin replied. "Also, we put way too much effort into tonight to let you fuck it up. Keep your distance from Steve, and Nancy promises not to wing you."

"Seriously?" he asked. Her smile intensified. 

"Absolutely. We promised Steve we wouldn't kill you, but we didn't promise not to wing you."

"What's the second caveat?" Billy asked, instead of responding to that. Steve's team being this protective was _fascinating_. Billy wondered what had happened to cause it.

"Don't do anything shady," she said simply. "Or anything that looks shady. We're all armed, and none of us are going to be super particular about the difference." She held his gaze until he gave a short nod to indicate that he understood. He could always change his mind later. Then she actually reached out and patted his cheek. "Enjoy the party," she said with a smirk as she started to back away. "Come find me downstairs in about fifteen minutes and I'll have a table assignment for you and your colleagues." He held out the earpiece she had given him, but she shook her head. "Keep it. He might want to talk more later." She turned and disappeared through a door behind her, and Billy was left alone. 


	2. Every bait and switch was a work of art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and his team have three jobs to do at this party.

Steve tapped his earpiece again as he walked through the door, Jonathan murmuring updates in his other ear. He nodded along; it sounded like everything was in place. There wasn't much for Steve to do until the auction started. He had baited the hook for Billy, and it was time to wait and see if they would catch anything. Jonathan finished up, and Steve nodded absently at him.

"Are we clear?" he asked Dustin. _Are we the only ones on this channel?_ was what he actually meant.

"Clear," Dustin said. He was still sulking; Steve could hear it in his voice.

"Are you sure?" he asked, just to twist the knife a little. He grinned when Dustin sighed, long and loud.

"Do you think you're going to stop asking me that at some point?"

"Calm down, buddy. Just fucking with you. You don't screw up that often, so I really have to lean into it when it actually happens." Dustin ignored that.

" _Yes_ , we're the only people on this channel. _Yes_ , I'm sure." He still sounded aggrieved, but less so than before.

"Ok. Nancy, keep an eye on Billy. Let's see what he does. Robin, you've got Max and Heather. I want you to know where they are at all times, but we only need a heads-up if it looks like they're going to interfere."

"If they look like they're going to interfere, I'm going to shoot first and provide updates later," Robin said calmly. Steve sighed.

"Robin. We talked about this. We want them to trust us, remember?"

"Yeah, and you got outvoted on the topic of force, remember? Don't worry, dingus; Nancy and I have it covered, and we already promised not to kill anyone. It'll just be a friendly little graze, right Nance?"

"Absolutely." Steve could hear Nancy's smile in her voice.

"Jesus Christ," Steve muttered under his breath. Next to him, Jonathan was trying to hide a smile. Steve thought about continuing to push it, but it was likely futile. Robin and Nancy were going to do whatever the fuck they wanted to do anyway, so he moved on. 

"Mike, you're on our secondary target. We only need a heads-up if it looks like he's leaving. Do what you can to drive up his bid at the auction, but do not end up winning, you got it?"

"Uh, I think I can handle it, Steve." God, he was still such a fucking brat. Surprisingly competent, though, so Steve let his tone slide.

"That leaves me on our primary target. Dustin, did you test the tracker?"

"I'm watching you move around the party right now, and Lucas and I already tested it at various distances. It works. Just tag him, and we'll do the rest."

"Alright." Steve checked his watch. "The auction starts in eighteen minutes. Head to your places, everybody. Let's do this thing."

Steve headed out onto the dais. He wasn't running the auction, but he was hosting the party, so he had to give a little speech welcoming everyone. After that, he would just be hanging out on stage, helping to move auction items on and off the dais and waiting for his moment. He opened up a private channel with Robin while he was waiting for the auction to start. He felt the familiar curl of nerves in his gut. He always got this way right before a job.

"What if he leaves?" he asked Robin, skipping a greeting entirely. She was used to it.

"He's not going anywhere, dingus. You should have seen his face when you walked in. And when you were chatting, actually. You did a good job. I think he liiiiikes you." Steve flushed a little.

"Shut up. And that's not the point."

"The point is that we wanted them to stay, and they're going to, so you better have that pitch ready."

"Do you think Greece is the right job for the pitch?" Robin huffed a laugh.

"Yeah, I think Greece is the right job. He's not going to be able to say no." Steve smiled despite himself.

"Gotta go. Time for my speech." He closed the channel before Robin could reply and stepped up to the microphone to give his speech.

"...and in between auction items, we'll be hearing from some of the charitable foundations that will be receiving the proceeds from tonight's auction. Please join me in welcoming Ms. Amelia Carter from the Blackwood Foundation as our first speaker." Steve finished his speech and stepped to the back of the dais as Ms. Carter approached the microphone. He scanned the crowd, spotting everyone who was supposed to be there. His target was right there in the front row, and Steve could see Mike, looking impossibly bored, hovering discreetly near his target. Billy and his team had a table at the edge of the room, close enough to watch the show, but far enough that they couldn't interfere. They didn't seem inclined to try; to all appearances, they were simply enjoying the party, like everyone else. Steve opened up his line to Robin again, knowing that no one would be able to see his lips moving from his spot behind the speaker.

"So Heather, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, dingus."

"Oh, I think you do. Teensy brunette with attitude to spare? She could not possibly be more your type."

"She's a target, Steve. And a thief."

"So are you, sometimes. And the whole point of that job is to cultivate them as potential assets. Being friendly is basically a requirement."

"Are you suggesting I make a move as part of the job?"

"No, I'm suggesting that this particular job doesn't preclude you from making a move." There was a silence.

"Are you talking to me or yourself?" Robin was definitely smirking; Steve could tell.

"Now it's _my_ turn to not know what _you're_ talking about."

"Oh, I think you you do," she shot back at him. "Pretty, intense, aggressively competent, looks incredible in formalwear? I'm not the only one with a type."

"Hm, no, that's not ringing any bells."

"You're such a dork," Robin said. There was a long pause. "And fine, yes, she's gorgeous. Whatever. I'll still wing her if she tries anything."

"Aw, you're such a romantic."

"I hate you, Steven."

"I really don't think you do," Steve said, before closing the channel again.

Ms. Carter had finished her speech, so Steve was almost up. He ran through it in his head a few times as the next couple of items were auctioned off, and then his target was approaching the stage. Mr. Jones (a deeply uninspired alias, in Steve's professional opinion) talked briefly about all of the positive things that the charitable arm of International Aerospace Technologies was going to accomplish with the money from tonight, and all Steve could picture was flower-faced monstrosities and little girls growing up in cages. These weren't the same people from Hawkins, probably, but the hubris was the same.

He forced his anger down and took a deep breath, starting to move toward the microphone. The man finished his speech and turned to leave the stage just as Jonathan stepped forward with the next auction item in his hands. Jonathan stumbled, jostling the man toward Steve. Steve caught the man by the lapels as he staggered forward, and his clever fingers dipped into the man's jacket pocket. By the time he had steadied the man on his feet, the device--a tiny, clear decal that looked like a fingerprint smudge--was affixed to his phone. Now Steve just had to keep Mr. Jones talking for the sixty seconds it would take the device to embed the tracker in the phone's code. After that, Mr. Jones could wipe off the smudge, and it wouldn't matter; they could track the phone anywhere in the world. Steve smiled at the man, concern written all over his face.

"Are you all right? I do apologize. I'll have a word with my employee about his clumsiness." He would, too, though it would mostly consist of a high-five. Jonathan had executed his part perfectly. Mr. Jones took a step back, away from Steve. He smoothed down the line of his suit, tugging at the bottom of his jacket.

"I'm perfectly fine, I assure you." He turned to leave the dais and Steve followed him, all wide-eyed enthusiasm. The effect he was aiming for was 'particularly stupid golden retriever,' and based on the slight look of distaste on Mr. Jones' face, he was nailing it.

"I'm so glad to hear it! I'd hate to inconvenience the representative from such an important company. We so appreciate the participation of International Aerospace Technologies at our event." This appeared to remind Mr. Jones that he was talking to the very wealthy host of the event. He schooled his expression back into something more neutral.

"I should be thanking you. The proceeds from tonight will allow our foundation to do even more charitable work in the coming year."

"That's exciting to hear. I'm always happy to be able to support more good in the world." Steve was proud of himself for keeping the sarcasm out of his tone. He heard Dustin's voice in his ear.

"We're all good, Steve. The tracker is live."

"Well, I should get back to the auction," Steve said to Mr. Jones. "I'm glad you weren't inconvenienced. Please enjoy the rest of your evening." He smiled and returned to his spot at the back of the dais. He scanned the crowd again and caught a pair of bright blue eyes watching him speculatively from the edge of the room. Good.

He turned his attention back to the auction, and watched Mike bid on the current item--a previously undiscovered Monet. Mike played it just right; he drove the bidding up high enough that only his target was left bidding against him, and then dropped out. The painting sold to the intended buyer, and just like that, two out of their three objectives were achieved. The only thing left to do was close the deal with Billy and his team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this whole fic is really just an excuse to write banter with the tiniest little sprinkle of plot. If you're here for plot-heavy con artist jobs, I apologize in advance. Also, did I make up ridiculous technology for the purposes of this story? Sure did, and it was fun as hell! Did I also invent an undiscovered Monet? YEP. I'm realllly leaning in to that alternate universe tag. 
> 
> Yep, we're still doing titles from evermore. I'll probably be on that bullshit for a WHILE.


	3. You had some tricks up your sleeve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy wasn’t sure what to expect as the party started to wind down. The auction had been over for a while, and maybe they should have left—Max had advocated strenuously for that plan—but curiosity kept Billy at the party.
> 
> “I’m sure you have questions, and we’ll get to those. First, though, we have an offer for you.” Steve glanced from Billy to Max to Heather, but none of them said anything.

Billy wasn’t sure what to expect as the party started to wind down. The auction had been over for a while, and maybe they should have left—Max had advocated strenuously for that plan—but curiosity kept Billy at the party. Steve’s team had clearly been after a couple of things during the auction, even if Billy didn’t yet understand why. There was no way Steve’s encounter with that guy from the aerospace company had been an accident. And the tall kid they had bidding for the painting hadn’t exactly been subtle. Not subtle enough to escape Billy’s notice, anyway. He just didn’t understand what any of it was for. So he mingled and drank champagne and ate the fancy fucking appetizers and watched Steve’s team. Well, he watched the people that he knew were part of Steve’s team, and he tried to pick out the rest.  
  
Robin didn’t hover as much as Billy had anticipated. She was always around, when he looked, but she didn’t seem to have much interest in him. He tested a theory after the auction, leaving Max and Heather talking at the table and moving into the crowd. Robin didn’t follow him, which meant he was someone else’s responsibility. He took a discreet look around the room, but didn’t see anyone, not even on the upper level. There was a faint hum in his ear, and then an amused female voice. 

“Looking for something in particular?” It wasn’t Robin.  
  
“Nancy?” he guessed. 

“In the flesh,” she said. “Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I can’t see you.”

“Are you just reminding me that you have a gun pointed at me, or…?” She laughed. 

“I mean, I definitely do, but that’s not why we’re talking. Steve asked me to extend an invitation. He wants to meet with you and your team in about a half hour.” 

“Steve wants to meet?” Billy couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “I thought I was supposed to stay away from him tonight.” Nancy sighed. 

“We already had that argument, and he’s adamant. He has a proposition for you, and he wants to deliver it in person.” There was a pause. “It’s a fucking stupid idea, but you have to know that if you try anything, someone will definitely shoot you.”

“I already told Robin that we don’t take those kinds of jobs.”

“See, that’s exactly what you would say if you did take those kinds of jobs. So, you know, not super reassuring.”

“You can relax. You’re not going to have to shoot anyone.”

“Great,” she said, sounding a little disappointed. “Robin will find you when it’s time. You’ll have to make it through a couple levels of security, just FYI.” And then Nancy’s voice was gone. 

Billy helped himself to another glass of champagne while he thought. What kind of proposition could Steve possibly have for him that would be worth this kind of risk? Billy knew he wasn’t here to hurt Steve, but Steve and his team didn’t know that. They didn’t even know what his job was supposed to be tonight. Billy drained the champagne in a long swallow and made his way back to Heather and Max.

  
“Steve wants to meet with us,” he said quietly. They were tucked into a discreet corner of the room, almost hidden behind a heavy set of curtains. 

“Wow, that sounds like a fucking fantastic idea,” Max said sarcastically. She looked at Billy like he was an idiot. He didn’t say anything. “You know it’s probably a trap, right? This is Steve’s house. He can control the environment, which means he has the upper hand. We should get the fuck out of here while we still can.” Billy looked at her. 

“Are you sure you’re not just mad that your ‘extensive research’ did nothing to prevent us from getting our asses comprehensively handed to us tonight?” She glared at him, furious at the comment and also at the possibility that he hadn’t just made it to her and Heather. Steve’s team was almost certainly listening in; this was their home turf, after all. Billy held her gaze. He wasn’t sorry; he had told her something was off, and he was still petty enough to rub it in a little. 

“Dick,” she muttered under her breath, but she looked away first.

“I think we should go to the meeting,” Heather offered. 

“What? Why?” Max turned on her, happy to point her fury in a new direction. Heather shrugged, unconcerned. She was used to Max by now. 

“There were easier ways to prevent us from carrying out our job tonight. They clearly made an effort to let us know they were on to us. They wanted our attention. Don’t you want to know why?” Billy watched Max’s face as she struggled. She absolutely wanted to know why. She and Billy were shockingly similar for two people who weren’t actually related by blood; curiosity was probably going to be the death of both of them eventually. Finally Max sighed. 

“Fine. We’ll go. But if it’s a trap and we get murdered, I want you both to die knowing that I told you so.”

***

When the time came, Robin led them through an unobtrusive door tucked away behind a curtain in a corner of the ballroom. They went down a short hallway, through a set of heavy wooden doors, and into another, longer hallway. Halfway down that hallway was a door with no handle. Instead, it had a silver panel set into it where the handle would normally be. Robin briefly held her arm up to the panel, and the door swung open silently. A low beep sounded as they passed through it, and then it swung shut again behind them. Robin stopped and turned to them, grabbing a clear plastic box off of a nearby table. 

“We’ll be going through a metal detector next, so anything metal should go in here. Also, if you have any electronics that you don’t want fried, I suggest you leave them here. We’ll be going into a secure room, and anything electronic that you take in there isn’t coming out functional.” Billy exchanged glances with Max and Heather, and then dropped his phone in the box. Max and Heather did the same, reluctantly. Billy was pretty sure that there had been metal detectors at the entrance to the party, so that step was a formality. He didn’t have anything that would set them off. That didn’t mean he wasn’t armed, but he expected that there would be more layers of security after this one. 

“What about comms?” Max asked. Robin shrugged. 

“If you want them to be functional when you get them back, leave them here.” They all dropped their earpieces in the box. They wouldn’t use these particular ones again anyway—not after they had been in someone else’s possession. They continued down the hallway and through another door that Robin opened by waving her arm in front of it. To Billy’s surprise, they were not subjected to a pat down or any other security measures before they arrived at a set of double wooden doors. 

“This is it. Don’t do anything stupid.” Robin knocked twice on the door and then headed back the way they had come. The door swung open and a tall, good-looking Black kid ushered them in and led them to a couch and some chairs set up around a low table. He introduced himself as Lucas. There was a petite brunette in one corner of the room with two shoulder holsters. Nancy, Billy assumed. She was tinier than he had anticipated. In the other corner was the guy Steve had been talking to earlier, the one who had tripped on the dais. He wasn’t visibly armed, and he shot Billy a small smile when he caught his eye. His name was Jonathan, apparently.   
  
The air in the room was heavy; the room was soundproofed, at the very least, and maybe reinforced. Billy felt a low hum in his molars, briefly, and then it was gone. The lights flickered once and then settled. A door at the other end of the room opened and Steve came through it, followed by a tall kid with a wild head of curly hair. Steve smiled when he saw them, and it was wide and genuine. Billy blinked, off-balance all over again. Steve Harrington was even prettier up close. He leaned on the front of a desk at one end of the room. He could see all of them as they sat around the table, but he was a healthy distance away. 

“Hello again,” he said with another smile. “I’m sure you have questions, and we’ll get to those. First, though, we have an offer for you.” Steve glanced from Billy to Max to Heather, but none of them said anything. He continued. “We have a job that we’d like your help with. It will be lucrative and relatively low-risk. We think your team is uniquely suited to assist us. We know, though, that we can’t work together if we don’t trust each other.” He glanced at his own team this time. Their expressions didn’t give much away, though Nancy looked unhappy. “We’re prepared to share some information as a first step toward building that trust.” The curly-haired kid cut in.

“First, though, we need to know what you’re doing here tonight.”

“Dustin,” Steve said gently. Dustin turned to look at Steve.

“Come on, man. We can’t work with them if they’re here on behalf of the Russians.” Billy’s heart sank.

“The Russians?” he asked before he could stop himself. Dustin turned to him, eyebrows going up.  
  
“That mean something to you?” he asked, aiming for casual and missing by a wide margin. Billy could feel Heather and Max staring at him. Heather was calm as always, but he could practically feel Max’s glare burning a hole in the side of his face. He wasn’t at all sure what the hell he was doing. He had absolutely no reason to trust anyone in this room who wasn’t already on his team, but God help him, he trusted Steve. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t made it this far by ignoring his instincts. He looked at Steve instead of Dustin.  
  
“Maybe,” he admitted, and he heard Max’s disappointed exhale.

“Is that who hired you?” Steve asked quietly. 

“Let’s just say that the man who offered us the job had a distinctive accent,” Billy replied. “He was military or ex-military. An officer of some kind. He wasn’t in uniform, but his mannerisms gave him away.” Max gasped, no doubt shocked that Billy was actually volunteering information, but Billy held Steve’s gaze. Steve winced and went a little pale. 

“And what was the job they offered you?” he asked, voice still low, as if he didn’t want to spook Billy.   
  
“I’m going to take something out of my pocket,” Billy said in response. His eyes went to Nancy. “Don’t shoot me,” he said. She just stared at him. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, nice and slow, telegraphing all of his movements. He pulled out a long white envelope. It was thick and heavy.   
  
“I was supposed to deliver this. They said it was a message.” Everyone in the room stared at it. 

“Steve,” said Dustin, a warning in his voice, “you can’t actually think it’s a good idea to open that.” 

“We’re in a secure room for a reason, buddy,” Steve said in response. He took a step toward Billy and the envelope, and his whole team took a step toward him. “Jesus, guys, take it easy,” he breathed with a little laugh. 

“Can you blame us, after last time?” That was Jonathan, quiet and calm. Billy wanted to know what had happened last time, but he was also getting tired of being treated like a killer. When he spoke, irritation was evident in his voice.   
  
“Look, as I’ve already explained to half of your team, we don’t take those kinds of jobs. I’ll prove it to you.” He grasped the strip at one end of the envelope to open it. Steve’s team all shouted at once for him to stop, and Lucas, who was closest, lunged at him. Billy had only a moment to register that the envelope felt strange, too heavy to be made of paper, and then he was pulling back the strip with an ominous cracking sound.  
  
A swirl of black smoke shot out of the envelope and into Billy’s face. He coughed as he felt it force itself down his throat, and then there was something _pushing_ at his mind. He fell off the couch and onto his knees, hands going to his head at the sharp pain of it. He pulled his hands away from his face and stared in horror as his veins went black under his skin. Then he felt himself shoved back, into a small corner of his head, and something else took over. It registered the black veins under his skin with pleasure, and then looked up at the other people in the room. It recognized them, and it hated them.  
  
Billy felt himself get to his feet and bare his teeth in something that definitely wasn’t a smile. He took a step toward Lucas and suddenly Steve was right in front of him. Billy met his eyes and saw a cascade of memories that definitely weren’t his. Steve, wielding a bat with nails in it. Steve jumping in front of a group of kids. Steve running, fire sweeping toward him. Steve, face a mass of bruises, lit up in neon and throwing fireworks inside a mall. Billy took just a moment to wonder what the actual fuck was going on, and then Steve was moving closer.   
  
“Billy, you have to fight it,” he yelled. He reached a hand out, but whatever was in control of Billy’s body batted it away. Billy felt himself swing, and Steve ducked out of the way. He didn’t punch back, though, and the thing inside Billy pressed its advantage, moving into Steve’s space. Billy felt his fist connect with Steve’s face, the punch coming faster than it should have, driven by an overwhelming anger. Steve stumbled back and Billy advanced, lashing out again and again, Steve still refusing to hit him back. Then he felt a sharp sting in the back of his neck. Billy turned, the thing inside him snarling at whatever had attacked him from behind. He went to lunge, but the world went a little blurry around the edges. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and took two steps toward Nancy, who didn’t move. And then the ground rushed up to meet him and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're goddamn right we're still doing titles from evermore. I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> I set out to make this thing just straight-up champagne fluff, and then I tripped and now it kind of has a plot. Oops! Also, the Greece job is going to be a LOT of fun. I'm excited to get there. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come say hey on tumblr if you want! I'm @paperbodiesamongthestars.


	4. The more that you say, the less I know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's team has some secrets, and a plan. Dustin gives a presentation.

Steve woke to dim lighting, the smell of lavender and peppermint, and a vicious pounding in his skull. He groaned softly as awareness returned, and he heard movement. It had to be Robin. She was the only one who still bothered with aromatherapy when his headaches got this bad. He wasn't sure it did anything for his head, but it made the room smell really good.

“Welcome back, dingus.” Robin’s voice was soft and low. Moments later, he felt a cold compress on his forehead. He winced a little at the chill, but it quickly became soothing.

“How long?” he asked, voice rough.

“Two days,” she said, keeping her voice down. She knew the drill with his migraines. They all did. Her voice went a little strained. “Billy got some solid shots in. You have _got_ to stop throwing your face in front of other people's fists. We gave you your medicine as soon as the doctor said it was safe so that we could try to prevent this, but we weren't fast enough, apparently. You’ve been in and out for the last day and a half.” Steve had vague memories of dim lights and low voices, but he didn't recall anything specific. He considered pointing out that it hadn't actually been Billy who hit him, or that he hadn't exactly intended to get punched, but he figured she knew. On both counts. They had been down this road a few times before.

"Is everyone ok?” he asked instead. She sighed.

“Everyone is fine. Billy’s still sleeping it off, but he’s Mindflayer-free. El verified it.”

“They didn’t—“

“No one saw her come in or go out, and no one on his team even knows she exists. Relax. We were careful, as always.” Steve hummed at that. He believed her. El was an adult, but it wasn't as though Hopper had chilled out as a dad after he fought his way out of captivity and back to her. No one wanted to face his wrath if her secret got out. Robin continued. “Heather seems to be taking all of this in stride. I’m not sure much fazes her. Max, on the other hand, is furious about everything. We’re making Lucas deal with her. They spend half their time arguing and the other half sneaking glances at each other when they don’t think the other one is looking.” Steve was silent for a long time.

“Do you think she can work with the nerds?” he finally asked. There was a lengthy pause. 

“Steve. Steven. _King Steve_. You cannot be serious. Billy's team was hired by the Russians to murder you via Mindflayer infection, and it very nearly worked.”

"It did not almost work," he said with as much energy as he could muster. It wasn't much. There was both reproach and worry in Robin's voice when she spoke again.

“You can't take too many more concussions, dingus. And you can’t honestly still want to work with them.”

“They’re a good team. Besides, now we know for sure that they know about the weird shit.”

“So we tell them it was an experimental hallucinogenic drug that went wrong, and we send them on their way, and we watch them for the next year to make sure they don’t get mixed up in it any further.” Steve snorted. “It’s worked before,” Robin pointed out. "Several times."

“Robin, there is one reason they showed up for that meeting.” Robin scoffed.

"Yeah, so they could finish their job."

"That's not why, Robs," Steve said quietly. She didn't say anything. "You weren't there," he finally added. "None of them had any idea what was in that envelope. That attack wasn't intentional."

“You hope,” Robin muttered, and then she sighed. "I have to ask: are you absolutely positive that you're not just giving them the benefit of the doubt because Billy Hargrove looks great in a tux?" Steve felt the sting of that, but he didn't dignify it with a response. Robin finally sighed as though what she was about to say pained her. “Fine, yes, they also stayed because they were too fucking curious to leave.”

“We counted on it, in fact," Steve pointed out. "We built our plan around it. We can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist now. There is no way in hell that team is going to buy that cover story.” She sighed again. “You know I’m right,” he said, and she huffed in response. He heard her stand up.

“We’ll continue this conversation when you’re in less pain and hopefully thinking more clearly. I’m giving you another dose of your meds.” Steve thought about declining, but the pain was only getting worse. When his muscles went lax and the darkness returned to claim him, he was almost relieved.

***

When Billy woke up, Steve was lounging in a chair next to his bed staring at a tablet. Steve's face looked bad, but not 'day after a beating' bad, so it had been at least a couple of days since the meeting. Closer to five days, if Billy was any judge, and he had some experience in that area. There was a faint scent of lavender in the air, and Billy didn't recognize the room. It was large, with a couch and chairs set up across from the bed he currently occupied. There was a fireplace with a fire burning in it. Billy took in the rest of the room, flagging the exits out of habit, though he was pretty sure he couldn't make it to any of them in his current state. He probably should have been more alarmed by that, but he wasn't. He chose not to examine that too closely.

"Morning, sunshine," Steve said, looking up at him with a bright smile. Billy started to respond, but it devolved into coughing. Steve set down the tablet and handed Billy a cup of water with a straw in it. Billy ignored the straw on principle.

"What the fuck?" he croaked, when he could finally speak. He drained the rest of the water while he waited for Steve to respond.

"Trust you to cut straight to the heart of things," Steve said in response, like they actually knew each other. Like they were friends.

"So you're not going to tell me what happened?" Steve grinned at him.

"And ruin Dustin's presentation? He's never actually gotten to brief anyone before. He's spent the last three days preparing."

"Is that how long I've been out? Three days?"

"Four, actually," Steve said. "How are you feeling?"

"Never better. When is this presentation taking place?"

"As soon as you're up to it," Steve said, refilling the cup with more water. "In the interim, all I can say is that the world is bigger and stranger than most people know."

"There are more things in heaven and earth..." Billy murmured.

"Precisely," Steve said.

"Big _Hamlet_ fan?" Billy asked, actually curious. Steve just smiled.

“Your sister is a handful,” he said, changing the subject. Billy grinned.

“Stepsister," Billy said out of habit. "And I taught her everything she knows.”

“I bet,” Steve murmured. Billy laughed despite himself. “Really, though," Steve asked, eyes serious, "how are you feeling?” Billy thought about it.

“Like I got hit by a truck,” he finally said, deciding it was probably smart to be honest about it. Steve nodded.

“You’ll feel that way for a little while longer, I’m afraid.”

"And you know that because..."

"This is not the first time we've dealt with this situation," Steve said easily. "You'll experience some soreness and fatigue for a while, I'm afraid, but you'll make a full recovery."

"A full recovery from..." Billy prompted. Steve smiled again.

"All will be revealed at the briefing. Which we can do in here this afternoon, if you'd like."

A few hours later, Billy was sitting up in bed, wondering if he had made a mistake. His head was pounding and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Steve wasn't faring much better, if the lines of tension and fatigue on his face were any indication. Dustin's presentation was nothing if not thorough. Sure, it was weird as fuck that there were apparently interdimensional monsters, but did they really need _all_ of Dustin's theories about how the gates actually worked? Complete with the mathematical equations that made them plausible? Billy zoned out for a while in the middle, right up until they got to the audio-visual portion of the presentation. There were pictures and audio files and videos of several extremely fucked up creatures. Billy was fascinated until Dustin showed them video of the ones he called demodogs. Their weird movements and creepy chirping sounds transported Billy right back to Moscow, two years ago, and he felt a cold sweat break out all over his body. Heather didn't visibly respond, but he expected nothing less; he knew she remembered them. He saw Max's shoulders stiffen just slightly, and he knew his own reaction to them was written all over his face. He was too exhausted to hide it.

"So you've seen those ones before," Robin said mildly. It wasn't a question. Steve looked up, his own fatigue fading. He was interested, but not surprised.

"That's why we're here," Billy said, suddenly sure he was right. "That's why you wanted to meet with us in the first place."

"That's why the Russians hired you," Robin countered. "If you died taking out Steve, that was a loose end they didn't have to tie up."

"I am...sorry about that," Billy said slowly. "We really don't--"

"Take those kids of jobs?" Robin finished, and her tone was sharp enough to cut.

"We don't," Billy insisted, eyes hard. Robin turned on him, anger evident on her face, but Steve spoke up before she could say anything.

"Robs," he said quietly, "they couldn't have known."

"Right, because poisoned envelopes aren't a thing," she said sarcastically.

"We tested it extensively before we decided to come here," Max said, a little defensively. "It was clean." Robin stared at her, still clearly angry. "Sorry we didn't test for interdimensional monsters," Max added sarcastically. Lucas covered up a laugh with a cough. Billy decided that was probably enough discussion of that topic.

"How did you know we knew about the...monsters?" he asked. Something about calling them demodogs seemed...undignified.

"We didn't know," Steve admitted. "We suspected. We did the cleanup in Moscow, and it seemed impossible that you hadn't seen them. We kept an eye out after that, but if you followed up, you did it extremely discreetly." Max preened a little at that.

"So that's what your team actually does," Max said. "You deal with...stuff like that." She gestured at the screen, where a pack of demodogs was frozen in mid-leap.

"Not always," Steve said. "We do take jobs that aren't related to the weird shit. But yes, we specialize in dealing with the freaky stuff."

"And when you say cleanup..." Billy prompted.

"We're the best in the world at killing monsters," Steve said. It wasn't arrogant; in fact, there was a kind of weariness to it.

"We've had a lot of fucking practice," Lucas murmured.

"So just to be clear, I opened an envelope and somehow got possessed by an interdimensional monster," Billy said.

"The Mindflayer," Dustin supplied helpfully.

"And it wants your whole team dead." Billy could still see flashes of its memories and feel an echo of that deep, implacable anger.

"Oh, very much so," Robin said with a little laugh. "It remembers exactly how many times we've fucked up its plans." Billy remembered his visions of Steve from before. He wanted a lot more details about that, but he didn't ask about it. Not yet.

"But now I'm fine," he said instead, and Steve nodded.

"The aftereffects will linger for a while, but we can confidently say that you are no longer possessed, and that you'll make a full recovery. Also, the cure works kind of like a vaccine, so you probably can't get possessed again."

"Probably?" Billy asked.

"The science on it has not been fully tested," Dustin said, "for what are hopefully obvious reasons. But we're pretty sure it works."

"Neat." Billy wasn't sure what else to say. "You all seem pretty casual about monster possession," he finally pointed out. Steve's team exchanged glances. Steve sighed.

"Hey, if you had been possessed by the Mindflayer nine years ago? When we were all fucking teenagers and we still had only the vaguest idea of what we were up against? Let's just say not everyone would have made it out of that room alive. But we’ve learned a hell of a lot in the past nine years." There was a long silence as Billy took that in. He shivered, a little overwhelmed suddenly by all of it, and not liking the feeling.

"So you wanted to meet so you could tell us about monsters?" Max asked, drawing the attention away from Billy. He appreciated her, though he'd never actually say that. Steve grimaced.

"No, actually," he admitted. "We met with you because we were going to recruit you for a job, and then we were going to try to find out if you knew about the monsters."

"And if we did?" Max asked, a challenge in her voice. Steve shrugged.

"It could have gone a lot of ways, depending on how much we trusted each other." Max narrowed her eyes.

"But you told us about it tonight, after we tried to kill you. Inadvertently," she added, with a glance at Robin. Steve winced as Robin shot him a glare. Interesting. The monster presentation had clearly not been a unanimous decision.

"Yep," Steve said, holding Robin's gaze. "The Russians seem to know that you saw the demodogs." Steve's smile was bleak. "They don't use the Mindflayer for just anyone. They clearly see you as a threat." His smile faded. "Your team is a loose end, and they'll make another attempt to tie it off."

"Which would have been a good reason to keep them far away from the freaky shit," Robin said to Steve, who sighed. This was clearly not the first time they were having this argument.

"They're already mixed up in the freaky shit," Steve replied. "We couldn't just send them on their way. They would have been sitting ducks." Steve and Robin glared at each other for a long, tense moment.

"You think they'll come after us." Billy finally said.

"I know they will," Steve said. He was still looking at Robin.

"We can take care of ourselves," Max snapped, eyes flashing.

"Oh yeah," Lucas said sarcastically, "you made it really difficult for them this time around, just ripping open a murder envelope without a second thought." Max turned on him.

"How were we supposed to know that we had to be worried about fucking smoke monsters?" she demanded.

"That's my entire point," Lucas shot back. "You don't know enough to avoid getting yourselves killed. We're your best bet." Max scoffed at that and they continued in the same vein, voices rising higher as the argument got more heated.

Billy looked up as Steve made his way over to his bedside.

"Oh yeah," Billy said drily, "they're going to work really well together." Steve smiled at him.

"So you're up for a working recovery?"

"What's the job?" Billy asked, instead of answering. Steve's grin widened.

"We're stealing something from a very nice yacht in Greece," Steve said, looking over at Lucas and Max, both of whom were gesticulating wildly. Dustin appeared to be on the verge of stepping in. Steve caught his eye and gave him a tiny shake of his head. Dustin sighed, but stepped back.

"That doesn't seem like something your team can't handle," Billy pointed out. "What do you need us for?"

"Well, the security on the yacht is going to be top of the line. My team is good, but I think Max's input could be really valuable. And Heather and Robin could probably steal just about anything, between the two of them." There was a thread of amusement in Steve's tone.

"And what is it you need me for?" Billy asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, your job is the most important," Steve said. He finally turned to look back at Billy, and his smile was very bright. "I need you to come hang out on my very nice yacht in Greece and pretend to be my boyfriend." Billy just stared at him. For the first time in a long time, he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Please accept this lengthy chapter as my apology for the delay. Also, the POV apparently changes whenever I feel like it now. 
> 
> Titles are still from evermore because it's still a good album.

**Author's Note:**

> There are more chapters for this written, so it should be updated pretty regularly. 
> 
> Fic title and chapter titles are from Taylor Swift's album evermore, which is great. Feel free to listen to it as you read. 
> 
> I'm @paperbodiesamongthestars on tumblr, if you want to come say hi!


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